


Timebomb

by cigarettestainedeyes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Scott is confused, derek is a sassmaster, lydia x stiles friendship, stiles gettin real tired of derek's shit, stiles is really annoyed but dopey in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettestainedeyes/pseuds/cigarettestainedeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life wasn't allowed to get this complicated. A Stiles POV of season 1, branches off into complete fiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. slipping through the cracks

Stiles' life was repetitive but not unsatisfying. Despite this, there were a few things that could be improved upon.  
  
No girlfriend.  
  
No first string.  
  
And a ten pm curfew. He usually broke said curfew, but it was still in effect. Technically.

*

He made it work. He filled his days with video games, history homework and sneaking beers out back for him and Scott to sip while his dad was on duty on the occasional quiet, Tuesday night. Those were the nights he appreciated the most, when the air was thick and dewy, smelling sweet of grass and chlorine from the pool the neighbour next door had.

He surfed the internet for porn like most guys his age and went to the paintball arena outside of town on weekends. Scott would convince him to watch baseball even though Stiles didn’t understand much of it and the both would watch and binge on sugary snacks while Scott tried explaining the game and Stiles tried once again to convince him to watch Star Wars.

He took his Adderall because his doctor told him to and tried not to give his science teacher a reason to kill him. Every time he turned in an assignment late or busted through the door a few seconds after the bell he could see that he wasn't winning any 'Student of the Year' award.

All in all, it was a pretty basic life to lead. Granted, there were stressful tests and a few arrogant assholes at school and hormones to deal with so every once in awhile he would've appreciated a manual on what the hell he was supposed to be doing.

*

One dead body and his best friend being bitten by a werewolf later, and he's in trouble.

Only it's not so much the situation as it is the person involved.

Scott transforming also meant that Stiles had to change with him or move out of the country. Deciding that airfare was too expensive, he went with it. He went with it all without exploding and Scott didn't even notice. He never thanked Stiles once.

*

Course, they didn't last long on their own and Derek Hale was suddenly around.

*

He'd heard stories of course, about the family and the fire and Derek because at every lame high school party there had ever been the kids had always gotten around to talking about the only weird thing that had happened in their town; that fire, that family, and Derek.

The girls giggled and the guys made fun but Stiles always kept quiet.

*

Derek said things to Scott that made them both worry. He showed up to a lacrosse practice as Scott started shifting, and when Stiles led him off the field he caught Derek's gaze. Even though Stiles said nothing with the look he gave, Derek's face was stoic and tough in return.

He appeared behind Scott that very evening when Stiles was rattling off some of the research he had found online. Stiles could do nothing but watch as his friend was manhandled against a wall and threatened. He stared at his computer screen and almost yelled but his dad would be at his bedroom door in a heartbeat and after a couple of seconds he realized that it was Derek and what was happening.

Stiles wished that he was the one pressed against the wall.

That was the first night he realized he was totally fucked.

*

His dad tells him there's an earlier curfew now because of that dead body even though Stiles already knows this. It definitely doesn't make him Derek's number one fan.

*

Scott's the one that comes up with the idea to go snooping around Derek's yard to find the missing half of the body. They find it after searching for what seems like hours. Scott makes the call to the police. Stiles ends up throwing up once he's back home. He trashes the jeans he had been wearing because he can't get the smell of dirt and decay off of them. There will be nightmares because of this, he can tell.

*

The next day, after Stiles sees Derek tucked in the back of his dad's cop car, it takes all of a second to ignore Scott's pleading look and get in the front seat. He shuts the door with a snap, whips around, and tries to sound braver than he feels. "Okay, just so you know, I'm not afraid of you." Derek does that brooding glare thing, Stiles accidentally looks at his mouth, and he caves, his entire body shifting down under Derek's look.

The conversation lasts not even a minute but Derek actually leans forward at some point and Stiles vaguely recalls that he's wearing handcuffs _but fuck he could tear out of them if he wanted to_ and he swears that Derek glances at Stiles' mouth too and there's a small, sharp twist in his stomach right before his dad grabs his shoulder and wrestles him out of the car.

*

On the way back from the Hale house, Scott doesn't notice that it takes Stiles an extra second to reply because his head is overloading with questions. Scott is just angry and tense and snaps at Stiles a lot when he's not chasing him through the locker room and trying to kill him. Scott always looks sorry but it still stings.

He wants to find a trash can to throw up in again when he finds out from his dad that the dead girl was Derek's sister and Derek's been released from prison. He sleeps with the blinds closed and the door locked but still wakes up exhausted for the next few days, too worried about claws and fangs and menacing eyes.

*

Stiles is suddenly popular because Scott is great at lacrosse. Okay, so he's not exactly popular but Lydia talks in his general direction, Jackson is sitting two seats away at lunch, and Danny sometimes answers the many questions Stiles has about science in exchange for Stiles helping Danny with his essays for creative writing. So he's popular by association. Kind of.

*

He goes online for any information he can find on Derek and his family, going through police files he shouldn't be looking at regarding the fire. He only finds tidbits, newspaper headlines and brief videos that don't say anything about who Derek is. According to the internet, he might as well have died in the fire too. No one knew where he ended up and he wasn't on any social media sites from what Stiles could tell. It was frustrating because Derek could read his emotions with one look and sniff out where he was from miles away and Stiles didn't even know Derek's middle name.

*

Almost too quickly for him to process, he doesn't need to spend time looking Derek up online anymore. Derek is suddenly on their side and trying to help and there's bigger problems to deal with, like a killer Alpha and the fact that Stiles can't stop looking at Derek's mouth and jaw equally as much as he can't stop staring at Lydia's peeking cleavage.

It's exhausting and Stiles vows to try and come to some sort of solution. He has to before he explodes from all the scenarios running through his head.

*

Derek shows up at school in front of his Jeep. The part of him that is concerned about why Derek faints is quickly drowned out in a sea of honking horns from the impatient students waiting behind him. Scott helps get Derek into his vehicle and it's incredibly unsettling and the exact opposite of what Stiles needs to happen because he's researched werewolves and he knows that they can smell everything. He tries to give off waves of irritation instead of arousal but it's still the longest car ride of his life. His heart is pounding so hard that he can feel his pulse under the tips of his fingers as he grips the steering wheel. His bottom lip is pursed out. He’s gritting his teeth and thinking about the size of the car, the size of Derek, the size of the back seat, the blood -- oh yeah, shit, the blood. He complains dramatically in hope that Derek won’t pick up on anything too strange.

When Derek looks right at him and tells Stiles to, “Start the car or I'm gonna rip your throat out…with my teeth,” he feels his cheeks heating up and quickly looks away. He doesn't know how much longer he's going to be able to stand this.

*

He thinks he has the upper hand when he’s caught in a stare-down with Derek across a silver table in the back of the animal clinic, telling him that _no, absolutely not, I am not cutting your damn arm off oh my god_ but Derek reaches out and touches him; he's been doing it all night and Stiles really hopes he'll stop or something very bad might happen, like him jumping across the damn table and climbing Derek like a tree.

*

But it's just because Derek's too hurt to stand up by himself.

*

It's because he needs the extra help.

*

It's not sexual. It's not.

*

Derek's face is too close and his expression is too callous. Stiles is practically shaking because even though Derek is weaker than Stiles has ever seen him there is a notable shift in the air and it's _scary_.

Then Derek's tugging on his shirt over and over and they're getting closer and Stiles barely has time to mutter, “What are you doing” before Derek leans the other way and vomits up black liquid.

*

Scott breaks the tension when he shows up with the bullet that's making Derek deteriorate so everything’s fine.

Derek faints again and, just _fuck_ , nothing is ever easy.

*

It's cold because Stiles is on the ground with his knees slammed against the cement and Derek's lifeless face in his hands. Stiles can hear how panicked his own voice sounds, how it keeps hitching and cutting out on important words. He barely hears Scott shouting at him and ends up punching Derek in the face which simultaneously feels good and horrible all at once.

Derek wakes up and is back to being an asshole so fast that Stiles almost gets whiplash, but quickly covers up his _almost_ disappointment with a snide remark that Derek glares at him for.

*

Their eyes meet and it's so intense that Stiles nearly takes back what he says.

*

Scott doesn't trust Derek any further than he could throw him but he seems to realize that he needs Derek in order to survive.

*

Stiles has things to deal with, he does. Maintaining some sort of passing grade point average should be the first thing on his mind, but he gets distracted with Lydia and Jackson suddenly acting like there’s a monster around every corner. Granted, there probably is but that’s not something they should have to deal with. It’s not something he wants to share, this secret. He wants it to be his and Scott’s, and maybe even Derek’s if the guy starts playing his cards right.

Only it’s suddenly painfully obvious that Stiles hasn’t even been invited to join the game, much less deal a few hands because he’s not a wolf.

*

While Derek and Scott are training together, Stiles is left alone because he may be _the research guy_ but he is not _in_. He's just human, breakable and pathetic. He isn't useful.

He eats a lot of snack cakes and plays Halo during these days.

*

When Scott notices his absence he's suddenly necessary again, he gets to help. He gets to see Derek more but only glares at him a lot. He might make a snide remark without using Derek's name, but he doesn't talk directly to him.

*

He's too mad because Derek still looks perfect while Stiles' got bags under his eyes.

*

It's exhausting.

*

The blip that Stiles fondly calls "that one time Stiles actually does something right” consists of Stiles desperately trying to insert himself between Scott and Derek. They’re meeting up and having discussions that don’t entirely consist of threats and insults any more. Stiles knows Scott is his best friend, but it’s always been the two of them and no one else. So he tries to help. He spends an entire school day attempting to get Scott to work through his issue with changing when he gets angry. He gets a few laughs out of it because Scott gets hit a lot - hey, he’s the werewolf, he can take it - and it ends up working. For the most part.

*

Scott decides to call the alpha. Stiles wonders if he should find better friends. If he did that, however, he would miss out on hearing Scott croak like a dying kitten instead of actually howling. He fights back the wheezing laughter and tries to help motivate Scott into making a noise that even resembled something like a wolf’s. It’s loud, it actually hurts to listen to after a few seconds, and it’s dark. There’s something tangible about it and Stiles is once again reminded that this _thing_ he’s involved in is incredibly real and terrifying.

*

He feels the air in his lungs disappear when he sees blood spurting out of Derek’s mouth. The alpha rears back and runs before Stiles can really process Derek’s lifeless body slamming against the side of the school and collapsing into some bushes. He hides it well as him and Scott scramble to safety.

There is a tugging feeling in his stomach and it’s more than adrenaline. The alpha always seems to be right behind them, trailing their feet with heavier, louder steps that make Stiles’ throat dry.

He doesn’t understand how they make it out of there alive. Scott lies and tells everyone it was all Derek and Stiles feels a ball of despair slowly starting to fill the pit of his stomach. He starts waking up with a metallic taste in his mouth because apparently he’s biting his lips in his sleep. His jaw hurts from grinding his teeth, his eyes are sore from the nightmares. It’s becoming a constant pain to deal with this.

*

Maybe his dad had something with this whole drinking thing, because Stiles was definitely drunk and definitely, _most definitely_ horny. After the little incident at Beacon High with the alpha, Allison dumped Scott who tried and tried again to convince everyone that they were just ‘taking a break’. Complete bullshit, but Stiles didn’t try and make him see the light. Instead he just got really drunk while Scott sat on a rock having a staring contest with the fire they - Scott - had started.

He talks about Lydia to avoid talking about Derek.

He knows if he drinks anymore he’ll probably spill the beans. Maybe tonight was the night, maybe he could finally come clean. He was drunk and Scott was angry so perhaps the news wouldn’t even register to Scott.

He’s on the verge of cracking when a couple of guys pass by and cause them to leave. Stiles know’s that he’s past his limit but he wasn’t done with that bottle and feels sad when Scott smashes it against a tree trunk.

*

Derek calls Scott and demands a favor because it’s entirely Scott’s fault that Derek’s now being hunted by the police and the Argent’s at the same time, and yeah, he sort of owes him. Derek says they get to drive his car and Stiles has never been more jittery because the Camaro is fucking hot and he’s always wanted to ride in it.

Scott gets to push it past a hundred miles an hour but only for a second before the vehicle chasing them disappears. Stiles turns on the police radio and they book it to the industrial part of town where they pick up Derek and Stiles barely makes it to the back of the Camaro before he’s sliding into the car and slamming the door.

Derek’s angry and shouting and the excitement in Stiles’ fingers doubles and he’s almost vibrating with all of the new information being tossed at him. Harris is involved, the police are everywhere, nothing is as it seems.

*

 _Jackson_ finds out. Stiles sees him in the halls and glares, his nose curling up into a disgusted sneer that he can’t help but make every time he sees the king douchebag and his coifed hair. He’s not allowed to know. This is not his thing. He gets his Porsche. He gets to be captain of the lacrosse team. He gets Lydia freaking Martin. He does not get this.

*

When he gets home he just wants to get to work on several different things but his dad interrupts him and, hey, whoa, Derek Hale is just standing right there behind his door.

His dad reminds him that he’s first string for the upcoming lacrosse game, as if Stiles has forgotten. He didn’t, not really, it’s awesome if he thinks about it using filters like ‘what would you have felt like before Scott got bit’ but now that there’s werewolves and alphas and hunters it’s a little low on the list of things he’s mulling over.

He manages to convince his dad that he’s definitely proud and happy...of himself and they exchange an awkward hug before Stiles is shutting the door and suddenly getting slammed up against it by Derek.

Yeah, that’s actually happening, Derek’s face literally inches from his, heated words being breathed into his space, muscle and leather entrapping him even though Derek isn’t even that much taller than him. In fact, his hair might be the only thing that makes him taller. All the same, Stiles groans without meaning to and wracks his brain to get the upper hand before he suddenly pops a boner.

Much to his utter and complete shock, Derek is agreeing with what’s he’s saying. He’s rattling off some threat about his dad’s shotgun that sounds weak coming out of his mouth but Derek is _nodding_ and swallowing and Stiles watches the bob in his throat while Derek’s eyes are glued to Stiles’ mouth.

His heart doesn’t slow down until later, when Derek is a comfortable distance away.

*

The first time Derek Hale officially saves Stiles’ life, Stiles honestly misses most of the fight. There’s a lot of really awful sounds happening from where he’s hiding and he doesn’t want to see the bruises and blood being produced by them.

Peter Hale, _Hale_ is the Alpha and that is just freaking fantastic if Derek’s betrayed face is any tell-all. Stiles doesn’t hear much of their conversation either because their speech keeps getting drowned out by the sound of their wolf bodies breaking things. Stiles actually finds himself outside and in his Jeep before he has a chance to regret it. He has to tell Scott.

*

To absolutely no surprise, Scott already knows everything. It kind of deflates all the excitement Stiles had been holding onto throughout the entire drive over. Scott doesn’t know what to do about Peter or Derek suddenly on the same side. Once again, not much of a shock, the whole ‘Scott not knowing how to handle a life situation’ thing.

*

Peter and Derek disappear and everything stills. Well, school and life are still going on but Scott is confused and Jackson is acting weird and Allison sends Stiles a message saying that Lydia’s going to the formal with him which, wow, he did not honestly expect. He’s talked to Allison a handful of times, and yeah, he has some kind of moral obligation to both keep her alive for Scott _and_ keep her from killing him at the same time. His life should be a freaking Lifetime movie.

*

He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to sending Derek a few text messages now that Scott had finally remembered to send Stiles the cell number Derek had given him. They’re short and to the point and don’t ask too much, just a complete and honest explanation. Trust would be nice. And a side of curly fries. He has no clue if Derek’s actually getting them or reading them but Stiles doesn’t try and think about it, just finds a tie that Lydia says will match her dress and douses himself once, twice for luck -- with his dad’s cologne.

Now, because his life _isn’t_ a Lifetime movie, Lydia doesn’t fall in love with him even if he convinces her to dance with him, and the whole wolf thing doesn’t stay gone. In fact it’s pretty much shoved down his fucking throat when Peter Hale shows up, Stiles loses track of Lydia, and Peter attacks her in the middle of the lacrosse field.

Stiles knows what a panic attack feels like and the only thing keeping him from passing out is knowing that if he does, Lydia will die.

He taxis Peter around all evening and hacks into Scott’s computer and does everything Peter says, living on some kind of prayer that the Alpha will leave.

And he does, but not before offering Stiles the bite.

The Bite.

The thing that separates the nightmares from the real world, the thing that is responsible for every single occurrence up until this point. Stiles would be faster, stronger, more useful. He could have Lydia in ten days as opposed to ten years. Maybe if he wrapped his head completely around the mini-okay-not-so-mini-Derek-Hale situation he was mentally dealing with, he might be able to have Derek.

Wrenching his wrist away from Peter’s teeth is the biggest decision Stils has had to make through all of this. He regrets it the entire drive to the hospital where he sees that Lydia is stable and his dad his safe. He’s exhausted, there’s blood on his dress shirt, and his stomach’s growling so loud that he hides in the bathroom for ten minutes just so he doesn’t disturb the other people in the waiting room until his dad tells him they’re going home.

*

Stiles can count the bruises he sustained from his little escapade with Peter. There’s a constant pounding in his head the morning after and his joints feel tight. Scott fills him in on everything that happened, that Peter killed Kate and Derek killed Peter, that Derek’s the Alpha now and wow, that just sounds like more bullshit they’ll have to deal with at some point.

However today there’s Advil and Mario Kart and some serious catching up to do for their chem final. The wolves can wait, and for the first time in what’s been months, Scott couldn’t agree more.


	2. gaining some stability

_A month later..._

*

Stiles doesn't know everything; he'll be the first to admit that. No one did though so it wasn't like it mattered.

*

Scott would obviously be the next person to point it out, and Derek would inevitably grunt his agreement right afterwards because he was still an asshole.

*

However Stiles feels that there is a difference between being told you don't know everything and firmly understanding that remodeling your basement just to install a _cage_ is a little much. It requires contractors and other people that are not _Stiles and Scott and the pack_ and for that reason it's almost rude.

Derek doesn't seem to get this completely justified point Stiles is trying to make and it's pissing him off.

*

Stiles is rubbing his temple and Derek is getting more annoyed. "You wanted to tie me to the radiator." He growls defensively, as if that holds any merit.

"Yeah but that didn't require you knocking down three walls and installing a frame, Derek." Stiles snaps back before he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose tightly.

*

Stiles thinks it's stupid. After the landing at the bottom of the stairs, there's a bulb hanging from the ceiling that's dusty and dim and a small control box on the wall. Behind the door is nothing but a makeshift bed that, get this, is _bolted_ to the wall. There aren't any bars like a prison cell. Instead there's a large sheet of double-wide-industrial-super-strength-flexi glass running from ground to ceiling separating the area leading to the stairs from the supposed space Derek intends to stay in. There's fluorescent lights along the rest of the basement ceiling on the other side of the glass for when Derek is locked up. He could still probably break them when he changes, if he really wanted to.

"You're an idiot." He breathes out slowly.

*

Scott spends ten more minutes trying to convince him it's all actually really cool but no, it actually is not because this was not like the b-movie thrillers that Scott always seemed to want to go see with Allison where something like a wall of glass was a good idea.

*

This was real life and in real life you didn't just build a cage in your basement because you had a monthly lycanthropy problem. You acted like an adult and stayed in the house and away from people. It was basic math. Or science, one of the two.

*

"There's no key!" Scott says excitedly, pointing to the control panel on the wall. "There's just a code to unlock the door. Derek can't reach it when he's inside, and he can't break through the glass. It's simple."

"This is so extremely stupid." Stiles deadpans. “Have you even tested the glass?”

Scott keeps trying, his eyes doing that whole widening, puppy-dog act but he ignores the question. "You and I are the only ones that are going to know the passcode."

*

This made him pause. Derek trusted Stiles enough to give him the code. Scott was going to have it too but that was Scott. Scott was apart of the pack and Stiles was just there by association. Stiles was not Boyd or Erica or Isaac or even Jackson.

 _Derek was going to let him have the code_.

Suddenly Stiles doesn't think this is so stupid anymore.

"Not the rest of the pack?"

Derek is shaking his head. "No." He gives no reasoning but Stiles doesn't want one. He'd rather fill in the blanks himself instead of hearing the truth. That way he could believe Derek was doing it because he cared about him. It helped keep him from going crazy.

“Why do you need this? Scott just uses handcuffs.” Scott shoots him a glare. “Alright, alright, _I_ usually use handcuffs...on Scott. For when he changes.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Because, Scott’s turn isn’t as drastic as mine. While I can control it, there is a certain time that it becomes difficult.”

Stiles waits for him to continue and when he doesn’t Stiles blinks pointedly and jerks his head. “Which is?”

Derek sighs loudly. “I thought you were the one who knew stuff. The Blood Moon, dumbass.”

Stiles runs his tongue along his front teeth and nods. Scott looks mystified. “It’s the one after the harvest moon, it happens in the fall.” Stiles fills him in, because yeah, he has read up on the different types of moon cycles there were. He’d have been stupid not to. And then of course there’s Scott who doesn’t bother looking up anything, who seems to think there should be a goddamn manuel given out with every bite. It’s a bit embarrassing.

The corner of Derek’s mouth twitches and Stiles swears he looks proud. “From the beginning of September to the end of December, the nights are incredibly difficult to deal with. I lose control without realizing it. This is the burden of being an Alpha and sometimes I just can’t hold back...on anything.”

“How do wolves with packs deal with it? Do you all have glass cages tucked away somewhere?” Stiles asks curiously.

Derek doesn’t look like he wants to tell him but Stiles cocks an eyebrow as if to say, _hey, remember the part where you trust me now?_ and Derek continues in the same, condescending tone he always uses.

“Packs usually resolve it within the group by either fighting or having sex.”

Stiles grins at this and lets out a sharp laugh. “So because you don’t really have a pack and Scott and I are your only other options...” Stiles trails off and points at the cage.

“It seemed like the simplest solution.”

“Still don’t even know how you convinced the contractors to come down here.”

“Let’s just say their Christmas bonus came a few months early.” Derek grins wickedly and Stiles once again wonders exactly how much money Derek has. “They fixed the support beams down here too. So while the upstairs looks -- ”

“Like a burned-up, shit-hole?” Stiles interjects. Derek points his moody eyebrows directly at Stiles whose lopsided smile falls from his face.

“I was going to say uninhabitable.”

“Same thing.” Stiles can’t help but mumble.

Derek doesn’t even acknowledge him this time. “The basement is fully secure.”

"Fine, I'll come lock your door at night." Stiles finally caves after mulling it over for another couple of seconds, eyes darting from the glass to Derek to the control panel.

*

The thing with Derek, if you could even call it a thing, is really frustrating but simultaneously wonderful because even though Derek spoke in monosyllables and his text messages never included emoticons he comes around almost every day wearing the same type of clothes, speaking in the same type of tone, looking at Stiles through those long lashes that drive Stiles up a wall and back down.

*

He can't pinpoint when things start to change. It's probably around the time Stiles starts replacing Lydia in his fantasies with broader shoulders, tighter bodies, packed underwear. It’s not a scary switch, however.

He thinks that maybe he should be freaked out, but he would always watch guys in the locker room with their perfect jaws and that dip in their lower backs that made the skin under Stiles' fingers itch to touch.

He never tries to though. He gets caught looking a few times and learns how to make jokes about it. Then it's okay. To the other guys, he's the funny kid with the attention-disorder and shoddy skills on the field. He's considered safe enough to talk to by all of the guys that used to dunk his head in the toilet years back when everyone was less mature.

So he shouldn't be the one to blame for his newfound obsession with short, dark hair and intense gazes, especially not when he's allowed to stare at these attributes every day. Derek would talk and Stiles would barely hear him through his desire to pounce.

*

It's uncomfortable but Stiles thinks he's managing it well enough.

*

He has to work through trying to explain to his father why Lydia Martin, while still jaw-dropping gorgeous and so full of flirtatious comments that she ought to write a book of pick-up lines, is now just a friend. A very hot friend, mind you, but someone who Stiles now has in his room almost every weekend because she’s wicked good at chemistry and Stiles is severely lacking in that department. In return, he offers her a listening ear and a set of eyes to feast upon her ever-changing wardrobe. Allison always seems to be busy with Scott and Jackson’s still being the biggest jerk to walk the planet, so these things happen a lot now. She’ll show up with a few Macy’s bags and the day’s dose of gossip.

Lydia always brings coffee and Stiles always has some kind of snack prepared for the afternoon, non-fact and mostly organic (all specified by Lydia) but she doesn’t say no when he offers up Reese’s. He doesn’t stop realizing she’s attractive. There’ve been moments where he’ll catch a glimpse down her shirt or her dress will ride a bit too far up her thigh, there’ve been moments where Lydia is slightly sloppy after taking a Xanax she snuck from her mom’s medicine cabinet and Stiles is wired on his Adderall, or the one time Stiles is brave enough to drink with her, all alone. These are the moments where Lydia leans a head of strawberry blonde hair onto Stiles’ shoulder and rubs her hand on his chest and it would be so easy to amp this thing to the next level, but it’s not the same.

Lydia is warm, Lydia is willing, Lydia is smiling and her face is glowing up at him. It’s just not the same. She’s still beautiful but she’s just not making his heart race and his palms sweat. She’s comfortable.

*

This cage thing, this locking Derek up thing, it throws a wrench in his progress and he scratches at his head when he thinks about it for too long. It makes him anxious under his skin and he finds himself pacing.

Derek asking him over during his ‘cycle’ felt incredibly personal. During that time he was going to be the most vulnerable and most deadly. He would want nothing but blood and flesh. Scott never likes talking about it so Stiles didn't have a first-hand account of what it actually felt like, but the internet was pretty amazing and filled in the short-answer questions Stiles had been slowly stacking up in his head. He knows Scott wasn’t going to off like Derek, not every night for two months straight, but what Scott feels is the beta version of what Derek is going to go through. Same thing, just not as strong.

*

Stiles has never been around Derek when he’s in heat. The thought's terrifying but exhilarating. Like most things start, it is almost completely by accident.

*

The first few times he goes over, nothing strange really happens. Stiles just has to punch in the code, wait for a few minutes and then leave.

*

Actually he doesn't ever need to wait, he just likes to. Derek is on the bed either moments away from his change or on the edge of wanting to fuck someone till next week; Stiles watches and notes how he jerks, like he's drunk. He makes a lot of noises, a lot of tired groans and pants. He barely speaks and when he does it's always just,

"Shut the door, Stiles," in the most unforgiving and unfair voice Stiles has ever heard in his life. Grunting should never sound that sexy.

Stiles locks the door and he waits. It's usually only a few measly minutes, occasionally it's just seconds, but the change always happens and Derek looks so gone that Stiles is convinced he doesn't know who he is.

So he watches.

He stares as Derek claws, kicks and bangs at the glass. He's desperate to get out and touch the body standing in front of him. There's a slight thudding sound but no other noise and definitely no threat of Derek busting out. So he sits and watches.

He wonders whether or not Scott does this, sits around and waits.

*

Probably not.

*

Sometimes it's fascinating. Other times it's terrifying. Mostly it's arousing.

*

Stiles likes to sit with his hands resting on the ground behind him and his legs splayed out ahead towards Derek. He watches while Derek scratches and walks in circles and bares his fangs.

Then Stiles starts approaching the barrier. He starts reaching out and pressing his palm flat against the smooth, cool surface. The constant thrumming as Derek pounds against the glass on the other side sends vibrations up Stiles' arm and he shivers.

*

Like a fucking girl.

*

He tries to resist, but the way the Alpha's eyes flash red and burn through him is intoxicating. It makes his body hum and feel warm even though the basement is dark and chilly. A cold sweat spreads over him as he watches and just when Stiles wants to open the cage he bolts instead.

He slams the front door so hard the frame of the house rattles and moans.

*

Stiles remembers Scott saying something about this feeling once, the extended adrenaline from being so close to something you wanted. Usually it was about Allison and Stiles would wish he was brave enough to stab something sharp in his own eye because that had to be better than listening to Scott explain in excruciating detail how beautiful Allison looked when she brushed her hair out of her face, or how gracefully she moved in the hallways.

Stiles was only concerned about large hands skimming over the possessions on his desk. He noticed it back when Derek would come over on a daily basis. He would mindlessly touch Stiles’ things while talking. He touched the top of Stiles' computer, the side of his chair, ran his fingers over the blinds covering the window as if checking to see if anyone was outside. He'd shove his hands back in the pockets of his leather jacket and Stiles would have to redirect his eyes back to Derek's face before being caught. When their gazes met he would realize he was also concerned about eyes the color of muddied pond water and the way you could see the veins on Derek's neck pop when he was heated about something.

*

These were things to file away. These were now his porn. He'd seen raunchier stuff on teen shows but lately, Derek was all he needed. No more boobs and dick and mess, just skin and bones and hair and he wasn't even allowed to touch it.

*

Everything goes smoothly (if you could call this smoothly) until there were these hail-mixed-with-rain storms.

*

Stiles never considers what would happen if the electricity goes out.

*

The door keeping Derek at bay only has to be pushed open once the lights flicker and the hum of the generator stills.

*

Suddenly this all seems very, very dumb.

*

Derek had never said a word about what to do if the electricity failed.

*

That's because he had never figured it would be a problem.

*

Stupid fucking werewolves.

*

Stiles gets to his feet quickly, his breathing harsh in the pitch black. He comes down here enough to know where the stairs are but he already hears Derek opening the door.

*

He will never make it.

*

Hands grab at his clothes, claws prickle tight to the point where it's painful.

He feels himself get thrown, his sense of direction completely off in the dark. Then he feels a wall collide against his back.

*

Derek is so hot. It’s a pathetic way of putting it, but it’s the truth. His body feels ten times warmer than what people should actually feel like and it was pushing against Stiles who was softer, who bruised easily, and who was human.

*

His throat dries and contracts and he can't swallow, can't breath as Derek pushes their hips together, his claws biting where they hold Stiles' wrists. Fangs protrude and Stiles can feel Derek's breath against his cheek. Stubble rubs against the side of Stiles' smooth face when Derek leans in and he exhales, body stuttering in defense.

Dizzy, Stiles tries to calm down. He has the idea of calming down so clear in his mind but every time he tries breathing in he feels Derek's body as it shifts against his own. It's impossible to stop the flutter in his stomach; the twisting fire at the base of his spine won't stop licking around to his front. He can’t breathe out all the way because Derek is a wall of muscle. It’s ridiculous, he’s not taller than Stiles unless you count his hair, but he feels like a giant.

He actually moans.

*

Granted, it's a quiet sound but Derek is a werewolf so fuck trying to be subtle, Stiles know that it's pointless.

*

 _God, and everything burned_.

*

He finally manages to gain some sense of composure. It feels like it takes hours to accomplish, but it’s really only a few seconds that pass before Stiles is opening his mouth.

"Derek." He sounds calm without any idea how he's accomplished that. "Derek, you need to get back behind the glass."

Christ, now Derek was sniffing his neck, he was burying his nose under his ear and making this whining sound and his _teeth_ were poking and making Stiles gasp although he tried to muffle it by pushing his face against Derek's shoulder. It brought them closer together but it hid Stiles' face and everything it exposed. He felt like such a virgin. He was but that didn’t matter. Didn’t shit usually fall into place when things like this occurred? Wasn’t there supposed to be some natural way his body bent, a familiar feeling scattering his veins? It felt so foreign to be held against someone else.

*

The hail sound clamoring around outside got louder as the wind picked up. There was frozen rain starting to come down as well, making everything soppy and chilled. The house shifted under the weather, the wood becoming water-logged, engorging and groaning all around them and making the air damp and heavy.

Stiles could barely register any of it over his own heartbeat clamoring in his ears.

He briefly wonders if Derek could hear it too.

*

There was licking happening now, Derek actually started to lick at his neck. Stiles jerks a little in shock when he first realizes what's going on, but then he freezes. He has to get the upper hand.

Forcing himself to fight through the cloud of teen hormones that's infiltrating his brain (the army trying to battle his common sense was horny and impatient) he jerks his knee up, barely getting Derek where it counts but enough to where he stops and his grip falters for a few seconds.

*

This was the pause Stiles is looking for. He jerks away and runs for the cage, stumbles in and immediately flattens himself against the glass. Derek's right on his trail but doesn't expect Stiles to move to the side.

This gives Stiles time to get out the door and slam it shut just as the electricity blinks on again. A fucking miracle.

*

Stiles falls back onto the ground at the suddenness of everything, panting, his legs trembling. He wipes at his neck with a shaky hand, feeling the wetness and sensitivity where Derek had been teasing with his teeth.

He flushes when he sees Derek actually smiling (or rather, he was smiling as much as he can, it was more like a grimace but the edges of his mouth were curled up, his eyes bleeding lust).

Stiles once again bolts.

*

Stiles takes two showers that night, scrubbing his body raw under the scalding water to get the feeling of Derek's hands off of him. There are two small bruises on either side of his hips where Derek's thumbs had pushed in and every time he brushes against them Stiles remembers the feeling of the cold wall behind him, the hot body in front of him, the desperate energy between them. He takes some melatonin to calm down and make him a bit drowsy and after he curles up under his blanket, he falls asleep rather quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my darling beta [Erin](http://alwaystherobin--neverthebatman.tumblr.com) for supporting and helping and keeping me from going crazy with this monster of a fic.


End file.
